Inbetween Days
by Spydertiger
Summary: A selection of short one-shots centered around the daily life of Death the Kidd, Liz and Patty. Even those who live with Death have chores sometimes. Mostly KiddxLiz centric. Beware, will update erratically
1. Roses for you

The water cascaded out of the tap and into the watering can with a steady sloshing sound. Arms folded, Liz Thompson stood before the sink and watched diamond droplets leap playfully around the rim. The sunlight drenched the transparent stream of liquid; illuminating it perfectly and making it seem almost silver. _Everything_ about today was nice, including the weather. As she turned the tap off once more and glanced out the window, she winced in the face of the blinding afternoon sunshine. With some difficulty, she heaved the now extremely heavy watering can up and began staggering down to the back garden.

* * *

Patty was waiting for her on the steps, her trowel balanced on her bare knees. Already her hands were coated in filth, and she was even now happily scooping still more dirt into little piles. With a sigh of exasperation, Liz tottered down the steps and cast a disapproving glance back at her younger sister.

"Patty, you just washed your hands."

"Hee!" With a gleeful gurgle, Patty leaped to her feet and followed Liz at a skip, pointing joyfully skywards. "Look how blue the sky is, sis! It's like a - " Here, Patty paused, evidently searching for something to compare the blazingly blue heavens to. " – A cake."

Liz raised one eyebrow, and set the watering can down ungracefully, causing several teaspoons of water to spill onto the dry ground. "When have you _ever_ seen a blue cake, Patty?"

"Just yesterday," said Patty matter-of-factly, crouching next to Liz and digging earnestly in the dirt under a weed. "It was in the cake store and it looked _so_ yummy, but Kidd wouldn't buy it for me."

"Mm hm." Liz was only half-listening. While Patty knelt in the earth and rather ferociously attacked any poor weed that had dared to poke its nose in Death's back garden, Liz had straightened up and was pruning the tree. She would never claim to be any sort of expert, but she was pretty sure that _this_ tree was not one you'd find in any old park. The leaves were black, for a start, and round and glossy. The bark was smoothly flawless and white as bone.

Like a tree of Death, she thought absent-mindedly. The sun beat mercilessly down on her uncovered hair, and she though briefly about getting her hat out. Even as she formed that thought, Liz gave a sudden shriek and danced backwards, flicking icy-cold water off her expensive suede pumps. _"Patty!"_

The cheerful blonde giggled and put a hand in front of her mouth. "Woopsie!" she squealed, clutching the handle of the tin watering can.

"You don't water the trees!" scolded Liz. "And you _don't _water my shoes!" Miserably, she pulled them off and flapped them in a vain attempt to dry them off. If she just left them out in the hot summer sun, maybe they'd dry okay.

After that, Liz did her gardening in barefoot. Having finished the first Death Tree, as she'd come to name them, she moved on to its twin, planted (predictably) just opposite, on the other side of the path. Patty followed at a run, her flowery sun hat casting a soft pink shadow over her eyes. "Let me water the plants sis! Oh please!"

"Go on then," said Liz, smiling fondly. She knew that Patty was eager to check on her vegetable plot. Shinigami had decided that it would be good for the energetic little girl to vent her boundless vigour in other forms, like a sport, or perhaps drawing. Painting, as it turned out, had been a disaster. Not only had the results been so horrific that Kidd had vomited every time he saw them, Liz quickly got very tired of cleaning paint off the ceiling. Instead, Patty had been given a corner of the garden to call her own. Over the months, it steadily began to fill with carrots, peas, tomatoes, a few herbs and for some strange reason, two cacti. Patty loved her cacti. She would spend hours in the evenings squatted there, crooning to them and running her fingers along the vicious spikes.

Kidd had told Liz once that Patty had even _named_ them, but Liz wasn't prepared to believe that.

Now, she pushed the hair back from her face and watched in amusement as Patty attempted to run to her plot _and_ carry the massively heavy watering can at the same time. After several minutes of heaving with a puckered face of frustration, Patty had to accept that she couldn't run after all, and resigned herself to staggering along very slowly, grumbling slightly as she did so.

* * *

Liz threw the shears down in the soft green grass – Shinigami had a way with lawns – and pushed two hair slides into her silky blonde locks. Having them hanging in front of her eyes like that every time she bent over was really getting irritating; this was so much easier. With a distinct lack of enthusiasm, she looked at the shiny black leaves that danced in her face, asking to be trimmed. It looked just as good as the one on the other side, in her opinion, and she really could not be bothered to cut even one more twig.

Instead, she wandered through the garden, relishing the springy caress of the lawn under her bare feet. In the distance – and she really could say this; Liz had never seen anyone with a garden as big as Death Mansion's – Patty squatted over a tomato plant, sprinkling water over it tenderly with cupped hands. Liz's heart swelled with pride at the sight; for weeks now, they'd been enjoying fresh vegetables straight from Patty's undeniably skilled gardening hands.

Wiggling her toes contentedly in the grass, Liz turned to the left and spotted another familiar figure standing upright by the roses. He moved with a languid grace that reminded her forcibly of the black and white Death Trees and their glossy leaves. An amused smile curled around her lips as she realised he even _dressed_ like them, with pitch black trousers (despite the heat) and a collared white shirt, the long sleeves rolled neatly up to reveal even whiter forearms.

Kidd took great pride in his roses, it had to be said. As always, they were planted in impeccably straight lines, each one exactly cut like the opposite. Just as Patty spent every day singing nursery rhymes to her basil plants, Kidd spent every weekend trimming the rosebushes with a pair of scissors. As Liz moseyed over to him, she saw that he had a small bucket next to him, full of rejected roses from each bush. Hell, he even_ counted_ how many blooms were on each bush. If he caught even one out of place – snip – it was gone.

It was why the vase on the kitchen table was always full of blood red roses.

Glancing up as she approached, Kidd lowered his arms from his work for a moment and surveyed the bush critically. "Tell me honestly Liz – does it look the same as that one?"

Liz looked to the right at the other bush, which was, in fact, identical. "Yeah, it does."

He shook his head in frustration, and she watched his dark bangs dance madly over his lovely golden eyes. "But it _doesn't_!" Accusingly, he jabbed the scissors at the bush in front of him. "I've counted the roses a dozen times – each one has exactly eight. But _this_ bush has more leaves on the left side than the other one."

There was a pause, in which Liz glanced from left to right, trying to see the difference. There wasn't one. "They're perfect, Kidd."

"No."

Shrugging, she attempted to give him something else to think about. "When am I going to get one of your roses? I'd really like one to fill that stupid vase in my room."

He stared at her. Then he stooped and plucked one out of the bucket at his feet. "Here."

She pouted. "You're giving me a reject rose?"

"It's not a reject rose. It'll go on the table if you don't take it."

Liz balanced the flower horizontally in her hand; it was a perfect specimen. The stalk was firm and green, the petals delicately curled and a vivid, pure crimson.

But it didn't _mean_ anything. Of course it didn't.

Kidd blew out a long breath. "Okay then. _Fine._"

He turned back to the roses and raised the scissors, the metal flashing in the hot afternoon sun. A moment later, he turned back to Liz and put another rose in her other hand. "Here."

For a moment, Liz was so surprised she couldn't speak. "But…now this bush only has seven."

"I know," he replied, a little sadly.

Closing her eyes, Liz inhaled the dizzying scent of both flowers.

"You don't know what to do with them, do you?"

"Huh?" Suddenly his cold fingers were sliding over hers, prising her hands off the flowers. "Hey!"

"Calm down," said Kidd, twirling the scissors again. With neat, deft movements, he trimmed both stems down until they were as long as his thumb, and then stripped both roses of any remaining thorns.

Liz held her hands out for them back, but he shook his head. "Come here."

Obediently, she took a step closer and then his hands were in her hair, gently pulling her two hairpins out. Reaching up, he fastened one just above her left ear. He did the same with the other on her right.

Feeling a little self-conscious, Liz gingerly touched one of the quivering petals. "Why did you do that?"

He shrugged, and put the scissors in the bucket. "Do you like your 'non reject-rose'?" He sketched quotation marks around the words with his fingers, his voice dripping with dry humour.

Hesitantly, she smiled back at him, mirroring his sideways smile. "But…"

He put his head to one side. "But what?"

Again, she paused. There was a good deal of 'buts' she wanted to voice. In the end, she simply asked, "Why did you have to put _two_ in my hair? I look like a mouse!"

"Otherwise you'd be asymmetric."

"Screw your symmetry! I'm taking one out."

Abruptly, his cool hand closed firmly around her wrist, and he met her eyes. "Don't, Liz."

She puffed out her cheeks and stuck her tongue out at him. He blinked. For a moment, she'd looked uncannily like Patty.

"You don't look like a mouse, honestly. You look beautiful."

"Huh," huffed Liz doubtfully. But she lowered her arm again, once he'd let go. Kidd picked up the second, smaller watering can and began liberally sprinkling the roses. For a while Liz watched him and his smooth face, dark with concentration. Her gaze fell suddenly on the bucket, and its prickly red-and-green contents. Stooping, she put one hand in, hesitated, and brought out the scissors.

They gleamed as she held them up. Turning, Kidd gave her a suspicious look. "What are you doing?"

She gave him a mischievous grin and strolled over to the other rose bush; the one that still had eight roses. After a quick glance back at the seven-rosed bush, she leaned over and cut off a bloom near the back.

Kidd watched her, the watering can hanging limply at his side. "What are you _doing?_"

Coming over to him, she shortened the stem and removed the thorns just as he had done. "Make them symmetrical for you again."

He stiffened as her soft pink fingers fiddled with the collar of his shirt, making the first button fall open. Biting back a smile, Liz slotted the rose neatly into his buttonhole. "There you go."

"But…but now I look asymmetric!" he cried, gesturing at the splash of red on his crisp white shirt.

"You don't. You look - " Liz playfully pressed her finger to his nose. " – beautiful."

He stood there and watched her saunter off, the two flowers bouncing jovially against her sandy hair.


	2. The Owl and the Pussycat

"Co…ca…c-co…." Patty's chubby face screwed up in concentration as she attempted to form the word printed in front of her. She kicked her legs irritably under the table and tried again. "CO – CH – OOO…"

Liz leaned over and ran her painted nail under the word. "Co-shh-on."

With a great deal of effort, Patty repeated the word. "Cochon?"

"Yup." Getting out of her seat, Liz moved around the dining table to peer over Patty's shoulder at the book spread in front of her. Patty _loved_ animals. And she also _loved_ picture books. So in an attempt to (as he put it) 'expand her vocabulary', Shinigami had taken it upon himself to buy her an animal-themed picture book.

In French.

Now, this sort of thing might have worked very well on Death the Kidd, child prodigy, thought Liz. But it was sort of frustrating for Patty. Although she could recognise the bold pictures well enough, she was still getting used to the idea of reading in another language. Although that hadn't stopped her from learning the word for dog, and then repeating it at every opportunity.

"So _un cochon_ is a what, Patty?"

"A pig-pig-piggy, snork snork snork!" shouted Patty, pushing her finger into her nose and making cute little oink-y noises. "Cochon! Cochon!

* * *

Laughing lightly along with her sister, Liz turned a page and looked at the next set of animals. It was all pretty basic stuff. A mouse. A fish. A few dubious-looking birds. Liz turned another page and suddenly gave a shriek of pure mirth.

Patty was, for once, shocked into silence, and lowered her hand from her makeshift pig snout. "Whassup sis?"

Giggling madly, Liz jabbed a finger at the next picture. "Oh my god, that is _so_ funny!"

"What's so funny?" She turned abruptly at his voice. Death the Kidd hovered in the doorway, his pale face serious and stony. Which made her laugh in even more.

"What's _so funny?_" he demanded again, advancing into the room.

"Y-you!" she gasped breathlessly. "Your…_face!_"

Immediately his hand flew to his cheek. "What? Why? I haven't got anything on my face, have I?" He turned quickly to Patty. "I'm not asymmetric, am I? No jam?"

She shrugged, infuriatingly.

"No," gurgled Liz, finally coming out of her laughing fit. "Not you. _That._" Again, she stabbed at the picture. Automatically, Kidd and Patty leaned in together to look at it. After a pause, Patty started laughing too, hysterically and delightedly.

He glowered up at Liz. "I don't get it."

"Don't you? It's _you!_" spluttered Liz, pointing again at the serious little bird that glared up at them from the book. It was depicted crudely as short and rather squat, but it was the sombre and rather cross expression adorning its dark face that made the two girls fall about in hysterics.

"You're a…a…" Liz pulled the book towards her, checking the name. "_Une chouette!_ That's you!"

Irritated now, he folded his arms. "No, I'm not."

Calmer now, Liz grinned. "Yes you are. You're - " Here, she paused, trying to remember the correct French. "_Mon pour_ – no, that's not right…_Mon petit – _Yeah, that's it!" She clapped her hands. "_Mon petit chouette!_"

"I am _not_ your 'little owl.'"

But Liz wasn't going to let this one go. In retrospect, the joke itself wasn't that funny. It was just Kidd's indignant look of outrage (which perfectly matched that of the owl illustration, it had to be said) was too good to pass off.

"_Chouette! Chouette!"_

"Yeah, that's right Patty! _Mon petit, petit chouette!_" Laughing, Liz watched Patty bound out of her chair and start dancing madly around her and Kidd, chanting her newly-learned word.

Kidd didn't smile.

"Cheer up, _petit chouette_," giggled Liz, chucking him under the chin. Flinching, he jerked his head back in irritation, as though dismissing an irksome fly. "Don't do that."

"Look at _meee!_ I'm invading Death the Kidd's _personal bubble!_" crowed Liz, drumming her fingers on one of his shoulders. When his scowl deepened and he attempted to shrug her off, her eyes glittered wickedly and she swept him into her arms, pulling him around the room in a mockery of a ballroom dance.

All the while, Patty capered around them, clapping her hands and still crying, "_Chouette! Chouette!_" at the top of her lungs.

"_Je t'aime, mon petit chouette_," sang Liz joking, in a terrible French accent. Uncomfortably, Kidd squirmed in her arms. "Let me go Liz!"

"_Non!"_

Futilely he wriggled and struggled against her embrace. "Anyway, you're saying it wrong. It should be _'ma petite chouette'_. Because _une chouette_ is feminine."

"Kidd's a girl! Kidd's a girl!" screamed Patty.

"You little geek," said Liz fondly, letting him go at last.

He still refused to smile. "If I really was an owl, I'd be _un hibou._ Besides," he continued, moving back to the table, determined to get even with her one way or another. "What are _you?_"

Instantly, Liz made to snatch the book away from his hands, but he was too quick for her. Stepping smartly out of her reach, Kidd held the book high over his head and examined the pictures.

"_Une chienne?_ Nah, too short. Hey, you could be _un perroquet_. Or what about _un cochon_?"

Patty perked up at this word. "Piggy! Piggy!" Her face split into a wide grin. "Liz is a piggy!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Or _une chatte?_ You look like a cat sort of person…"

Sitting back in her seat, Patty swung her legs above the floor and beamed at Liz. "Like the song, sis!"

"What song?"

Giving her older sister a _look_, as though she were completely stupid, Patty kicked her legs once more and broke into song. "The owl and the pussycat went to sea, in a beautiful pea-green boat."

"Huh?" Kidd had lowered the book, and was staring at Patty with some confusion. She rolled her eyes. "The poem. You know. _Geez_, Kidd."

Looking at each other with raised eyebrows, Kidd and Liz sat either side of Patty and watched her screwing her face up with concentration, trying to remember the words. "They had some money – no – they had honey and lots of money…and five pounds…"

Kidd opened his mouth and Patty kicked him, making it clear that he was not to interrupt. "And the owl looked up to the star above and sang…no… he sang with a small guitar: Oh lovely Kitty…wait no…lovely Pussy, oh pussy my love! What a beautiful pussy you are! The Owl loves the Cat, you see," she added, as though this was not clear. "But I can't remember the rest."

There was a long silence. "Doesn't the cat ask the owl to marry her or something?" said Liz eventually.

"And there's a Piggy-wig in the story!" cried Patty suddenly, laughing in delight. "I want to be the piggy! I'm the piggy!"

"All right, you can be the piggy," said Liz amicably, patting her sister on the head. "With the ring at the end of your nose."

"My nose, my nose," echoed Patty, sticking both fingers in her nostrils.

"How did it go…'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?" sang Liz.

"I thought you didn't know the words," grunted Kidd, sitting with his arms folded and making it plain he wanted no part in this.

"I know bits, all right?"

"I know the end! I know the end!" Patty grabbed Liz's hand, and before he could stop her, snatched Kidd's up too. She pushed his into hers, crushing their entwined fingers beneath her own plump pink palms. "The owl and the pussycat were married next day and lived happily ever after! With the piggy-wig," she added as an afterthought.

* * *

Laughing uncomfortably, Liz attempted to pull her hand out of Kidd's, but Patty's grip was like iron. "That's…a lovely ending Patty."

"And hand in hand on the edge of the sand, they danced by the light of the moo-ooon!" Her voice tailed off on the last word and Patty sighed happily, resting her blonde head on Liz's shoulder. "Because the Owl and the Pussycat love each other sooo much…"

Smiling vaguely at their enfolded hands, Patty slid her head down to rest her chin on the table. Both Kidd and Liz flushed brilliantly. "The Owl and the Pussycat went…went to…"

"Yes, Patty." Awkwardly, Liz patted her sister's head with her other arm.

"The Owl can't feel his fingers any more," grumbled Kidd, trying to shake Patty's hand off his own. She finally obliged and dropped her own hands into her lap, her right thumb sliding automatically between her lips. Immediately, Kidd and Liz snatched their hands away from each other, something that Patty did not miss. Her eyes narrowed at Kidd, and he squirmed uncomfortably. "What?"

"The Owl and the Pussycat _must hold hands,_" she said firmly. "Because it's what married peoples _do_."

"We're not married, Patty," Liz reminded her sister.

"Not _yet,_" said Patty cheerfully, as though that explained everything. Sighing, Liz stroked her short blonde hair, wishing that she could see the world as simply as her sister did. "Okay Patty. Whatever you say."

* * *

"Piggy-wig wants ice cream," declared Patty presently. "Piggy-wig wants ice cream."

Shrugging Patty off her shoulder, Liz helped her to her feet. "Come on then. Let's go get some from the freezer."

Always keen to be first, Patty hopped, skipped, _jumped_ out of the room ahead of Liz. The older girl followed at a more sedate pace, pausing when she passed behind Kidd. "Hey, c'mon _petit chouette_. Let's get some ice cream."

"You know I never eat sweet food," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"All the more reason to have some now. Come on," she added, taking his arm and pulling him to his feet. "Before Piggy-wig eats it all up."

At first he resisted, but finally gave in, and allowed her to frog-march him into the kitchen, where Patty was already hacking at a large tub of chocolate ice cream. Liz gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze, and then her hands slid off him. Slowly he made his way to the kitchen table and sat down, resting his head on his hands and watching her sashay around the kitchen, deliberately teasing Patty by holding the bowls high above her head. Tilting his head contemplatively to one side, he considered Patty's poem once more.

_And hand in hand on the edge of the sand_

_They danced by the light of the moon_

_The moon, the moon_

_They danced by the light of the moon._

Maybe one day.


	3. A Breakfast story

Feeling slightly revolted, Death the Kidd turned away from the disgusting spectacle of Patty attacking a boiled egg and returned his attention to his lightly buttered slice of toast, trying to ignore the empty space on his right that glared at him like an eye socket. Quietly he sipped his tea and mechanically chewed his toast, staring vacantly out the window at the pale sunlight of morning.

"Kidd."

"Hn."

"_Kidd_." Patty's insistent tapping of her spoon forced him to drag his eyes back to her sitting opposite, surrounded by fragments of egg shell and the crumblier bits of yolk. She pushed the eggcup aside and began piling cornflakes in a bowl, talking all the while. "D'you think big sis is okay? I mean she's always here for breakfast and she's never been not here like this, I bet she's feeling ill, don't you? I even poured her special coffee out and everything and got the juice and the muesli out and - "

Kidd weakly held his hand up to stop her. "All right Patty, I get it."

For a moment she ceased to slosh milk into her bowl and looked earnestly up at him. Behind the wide blue eyes, he sensed genuine concern. "But Kidd, what if she's really ill?"

"Maybe she just overslept."

"But _just say…_"

With a feeling of resignation, he put down his teacup. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I'll go check on her."

Instantly, she relaxed. "Thankies, Kidd! Tell her that her coffee's going cold!"

"I will."

* * *

Abandoning his toast, Kidd pushed his chair back from the table and strode out of the room, leaving Patty to count cornflakes in her spoon.

"Liz?" he called as he mounted the massive staircase, nearly tripping on the expensive carpet. "Hello? Liz? You awake?" His pace quickened as he caught no reply and he was almost running by the time he stopped outside her bedroom door. It was firmly closed. Cautiously he rapped his knuckles on the polished wood. "Liz? Are you in there?"

Listening carefully, he thought he heard a faint groan. Feeling a little ill at ease, he leaned on the door and shoved it open. The room was very dark; the curtains were still drawn, obscuring the dazzling morning sunshine. Liz was a blackish heap spread out under her duvet, the pillow held firmly over her head. "Go 'way."

Taking a step closer, he tugged at the end of her duvet. "Patty was wondering why you weren't at breakfast."

No response, beyond a disgruntled mumble. Irritated, he walked around to the head of the bed and bent close to her. "Are you even awake?"

"No, I'm not."

He put his hand under the covers, found her shoulder and gave it a little shake. "Get up, it's already ten-thirty."

She yelped and jerked away from him. "You're _cold!_"

"Get up!" Before she could resist, he snatched the pillow off her head and whacked her a few times with it. "You're being lazy!"

"My pillow…" she whined feebly, before pulling the duvet firmly over her head, exposing her bare pink feet at the other end. Conceding defeat, Kidd dropped the pillow on the floor and sat next to her on the edge of the bed.

"Go away," she snapped again, muffled by the duvet.

"Not until you wake up," he said simply, examining the nails of one hand.

"Oh, get lost!" she said in a snarl that ended in a hoarse groan. Immediately, Kidd leapt to his feet and pulled the covers forcefully off her head. "What's wrong? Are you ill?"

"Stop being stupid," she said, trying to sit up and ending up bent double with coughing. When she'd straightened up again, Kidd leaned over and put his cool palm on her forehead, frowning suspiciously. "You've got a temperature."

"Have not."

"You're sick, Liz," he said, in a voice that commanded no argument. "Lie down and get some rest."

Wiping her streaming and bloodshot eyes, Liz attempted a feeble smile. "Get up, lie down. Make your mind up!"

He met her eyes humourlessly and she relented. "All right." She allowed him to prop the pillow up behind her and lay back with a sigh, eyes closed. Through the layers of cotton and sheets, she heard Kidd leave the room, leaving the door open behind him. Deep down she wished he'd stayed – but she was too weak to argue. Instead she pulled the duvet high up around her shoulders and watched the curtains sway slightly; someone had opened a window. Briefly, she wondered if it had been Kidd.

* * *

The thunder of footsteps on the stairs roused her, and she cranked her eyelids open to see Patty burst into the open doorway, swinging a china plate high in the air. "Sis! Sis! I gotcha breakfast in bed!"

"Gosh, thanks Patty," croaked Liz, passing a hand over her sweaty forehead. "But I don't want you catching my bug."

"Silly," giggled Patty, putting the plate down on Liz's blanketed lap. "I don't believe in the fluey bug, so it won't hurt me."

Liz looked down at the plate. It was piled with hot toast, and Patty had put a few strawberries at the side. Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Patty," she said, and meant it.

Kidd appeared suddenly in the doorway, a steaming mug in each hand. Jumping up, Patty skipped over to him, both hands held out expectantly. He raised them both high out of her reach and shook his head. "Not for you, Patty."

Still, Patty followed Kidd hopefully back to Liz's bedside, slavering behind him as he pulled a chair closer to her bed with his foot and sat down, holding one mug out to her. "This one's coffee. I made you a new one, 'cause the other's gone cold." As she took it gratefully, he indicated the second mug. "This one's medicine. I know you hate it, so I've mixed it with honey and added it to green tea." He fixed his golden gaze sternly on her. "I want you to drink it, Liz."

She flushed under his scrutiny and hid behind the coffee mug. "I will, all right?" Taking a deep gulp, she closed her eyes appreciatively, relishing the warm milk combined with the rich, earthy tang. Whatever his faults, Kidd certainly knew exactly how she liked her coffee.

* * *

When she opened her eyes again, Kidd was still sitting next to her, carefully watching as she drank. Patty, on the other hand, was gone.

So was one of her strawberries.

Kidd smirked as she realised, looking wildly over the bed for the missing fruit. "I was wondering when you'd notice."

"Patty stole my breakfast!" howled Liz in fake anger, and snatched up a slice of toast. As she ate, she was aware of the serious golden eyes that watched every bite. She lowered her hand. "You don't have to stay, you know."

"I know," he said agreeably. But he remained where he was.

Liz worked her way through one and half pieces of toast, a strawberry and half a cup of coffee before she stopped. She put the plate on her bedside table, and instead resorted to sniffing what remained of her now lukewarm drink, shaking her head when Kidd tried to tempt her with the second strawberry, waving it beguilingly in front of her face. "I don't feel so – oh…" Abruptly she leapt up, the mug tumbling to the floor with a splash and tinkling of broken china. Before Kidd had had time to react, she was out of the door and down the corridor, dashing madly to the bathroom.

He set the other mug down next to the plate and ran after her, arriving at the bathroom just in time to see her bent double before the toilet and vomiting for all she was worth. Kneeling next to her, he ran a comforting hand over her shaking back and waited for it to be over. When she sat up again, her face shimmered under a sheen of sweat, and she was trembling uncontrollably. Passing her a tissue, he stood up and filled a glass by the sink. She accepted the water gratefully and without comment, instead rinsing her mouth of the foul taste and wiping her face down with the tissue.

"You're very sick, Liz."

Shakily, she stood up. "Nah, just a little fever. That's all." As she spoke she swayed unsteadily and her eyelids fluttered slightly. Kidd put an arm around her waist, supporting her, and gently propelled her back to her room. "You've got to take your medicine."

* * *

As they passed through the doorway, his arm tightened warningly and he slowed their pace. "Watch out for the broken mug." She let him lay her back onto the bed and heard him sweep the broken china out of the way with one foot.

For the second time that morning, Liz accepted a warm mug from him and huddled with it against her pillow while he arranged a snug cocoon of blankets around her, pausing to feel her forehead once more. Her insides burned and her teeth chattered, but his hand felt wonderfully soft and cool, as though he could somehow chase away the illness.

Tutting, he shook his head. "You'll have to stay in bed today. I'll go get you some water."

"Don't go," she mumbled faintly, sinking into the pillow.

"I'll be quick," he promised.

With difficulty she extracted her arm from the folds of the duvet and clung to his arm, pulling him back into the chair. Sighing, he made himself comfortable and resigned himself to wait for her to fall asleep. Watching him over the rim of the mug, she sipped a little of the medicine and smiled appreciatively. "Thanks for this…I love green tea."

"I know."

He knows, he knows. Was there anything about her he didn't know? Probably not. As Liz lay there, gulping the sweet, scalding brew down, it occurred to her that she didn't know nearly enough about him. Would she know exactly how to treat him if he ever got ill? Unlikely.

She realised that she'd been staring at him while thinking of this, and had the grace to blush sheepishly. To hide her embarrassment, she took another sip of tea. "Hey, Kidd?"

"Yeah?"

"What…what's your favourite hot drink?"

He gave her a funny look. "Why?"

She closed her eyes. "Just wondering. Tell me your favourite things."

Blinking, he sat back and clasped his hands on his lap, thinking. "Okay…Well, I guess I like black tea. And jasmine tea as well, I really like that when it's really strong."

"Mm hm." Liz nodded sleepily and yawned, barely noticing when he slid the mug out of her hand and tucked the duvet more snugly around her.

"Earl grey tea's nice, but only with biscuits, or scones. And I don't eat scones with jam, ever."

She turned on her side and slipped down into the softer layers of sleep, listening to the wonderful sound that was Kidd, just talking rubbish.


	4. Mr Fixit

It surprised a good deal of people, but Patty rarely cried. Not properly. She certainly had her share of tantrums, over the smallest things, but she hardly ever found anything to express real grief over. So Liz and Kidd didn't really take her seriously when her anguished screams first began to echo through the cavernous mansion. In the sitting room, Kidd merely raised the newspaper a little higher, and Liz just turned another page in her magazine.

After ten minutes, Kidd reluctantly lowered the paper again and looked directly at Liz. "_Please_ can you go and shut her up," he said between gritted teeth. "I can't _take_ it any more."

"She'll calm down in a few minutes," reassured Liz, now painting her nails a deep crimson.

"You said that five minutes ago."

Holding her left hand at arm's length, Liz examined her nails critically and blew on them in an effort to dry the polish.

"_Liz."_

Sighing, she twisted the lid back on the dinky little bottle. "Oh,_ all right._" As she slouched out the room, Kidd stuffed both fingers in his ears and attempted to resume his reading of the editorials.

"Yo, Patty!" bellowed Liz up the stairs, hands on her hips. "What's bothering you?"

The howls paused for a moment, and then redoubled in strength. Pressing her fingers to her temples, Liz took a deep breath and began trekking up the stairs, trying not to notice the way Patty's impressive voice just got louder and louder with every step she took.

Eventually, Liz approached Patty's bedroom door, which was flung wide open in a gesture of fury. "…Patty?" She lay on her side in the middle of the carpet, back heaving with powerful sobs.

Liz felt the nasty prickling of guilt. She really should have been more considerate of her younger sister. Hadn't she promised to take care of her? Something was clearly upsetting poor little Patty, and Liz hadn't realised it.

"Hey what's up, sweetie?" said Liz, talking gently as one would to a frightened animal. She approached Patty and knelt next to her, stroking her shaking shoulder. Rolling onto her back, Patty presented a tomato red and tear-streaked face to her older sister. For a moment she stared at Liz, blue eyes meeting blue. Then her face screwed up and she began to wail once more.

"Shush! Shhhh!" soothed Liz, flapping her hands at Patty in a vain attempt to quiet her down. "Why are you crying? Eh?" As she spoke, she gave Patty's shoulder a little shake. Sitting up very suddenly, Patty flung herself at Liz and buried her damp and snotty face in the older girl's stomach, ruining Liz's top. "S'not fair! _S'not fair_!"

"What's not fair?"

"He's broked sis!" blubbered Patty, muffled through the material of the shirt. "I broked him!"

"What's broken?" said Liz tenderly, running a comforting hand through Patty's short thick hair.

"I broked Gerald!" whimpered Patty, and she held up her small stuffed giraffe.

Gingerly Liz took it, handling it as though it were made of glass, and turned the thing over and over, trying to see the problem. Finally, she saw it: a small tear on the inside seam of the giraffe's back leg, oozing stuffing as a wound might ooze pus. It wasn't that surprising really. Although the stuffed toy was expensive and well made, it was fairly old and extremely love-worn.

* * *

She opened her mouth to explain this to Patty, and faltered. The younger girl gazed up at her with tearful eyes, snivelling still. She was waiting for Liz to fix everything, like she always did.

Biting her lip, Liz looked from the sweet face of the little giraffe to the soggy, blotchy face of Patty. How was she supposed to fix _this_? Liz couldn't sew. She couldn't afford a new giraffe. And _gluing_ it together wasn't going to work like it had on the broken plates.

Liz couldn't fix this. So she did what she always did when she needed someone to fix everything for her.

Holding Patty's hand in her own, and cradling the giraffe in the other, she stood up. "Let's go find Kidd."

Miserably obedient, Patty tailed after her sister, shoulders hunched in grief. Occasionally she gave a huge sniff or a small unhappy sniffle, but she seemed to have calmed down some, much to Liz's relief.

They found Kidd exactly as Liz had left him in the sitting room, although he'd taken his fingers out of his ears. He looked up warily as they came in, and half-raised the newspaper. "What?"

Squeezing Patty's hand, Liz held the little Gerald out to him. "I wondered if you could mend this."

Putting down the newspaper, he looked from her to the furry little creature. "And what makes you think I can mend a stuffed giraffe?"

Behind Liz, Patty whimpered. "He's called _Gerald_."

"Gerald, then. What makes you think I can mend it…him?"

"Because you're good at sorting stuff out," said Liz impatiently. "And I can't sew."

* * *

For a moment they regarded each other, Liz hopefully and Kidd with a kind of cold suspicion. Then he chucked the newspaper aside and held his hand out. "Give us the giraffe then," he muttered brusquely.

Smiling triumphantly, Liz put it gently into his hand and trotted after him as he strode purposefully to a large lacquered set of drawers, yanking the top one open and rummaging through the sparse contents. Curiously, Patty watched him, curled up on the sofa and with her thumb in her mouth. Eventually Kidd sat down at the small living room table and began threading a long shining needle.

Sitting next to him, Liz rested her chin on her cupped hands and watched avidly. He glanced sideways and shifted slightly away from her. "Do you have to sit so close?"

"I've never seen anyone sewing before."

"Yes you have. I fix up the hems of your skirts all the time."

"But that's different," explained Liz simply. "I can't see when you're making me stand up straight all the time."

Snorting, Kidd turned back to Gerald. It lay sadly on its back, like a sick dog awaiting surgery. He probed its back leg and pressed the edges together with long white fingers, frowning at the sticky orange fur. With a decisive stab, the needle went in, followed by a long wisp of brown thread that danced and quivered in the air.

Kidd sewed with graceful, rhythmic motions, and Liz soon gave up trying to follow his stitches, instead watching the fluid elegance of his hands, so clever with their work. Occasionally he paused to check a stitch, bending close and frowning in concentration.

"Hey sis…" Patty's voice was unusually quiet and hoarse after her screaming fit. Reluctantly, Liz turned from Kidd's work. "Yeah?"

Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, Patty had Kidd's discarded newspaper spread out before her, and was frowning at the headlines. "What does 'AH-PUH-RO-PRY-ATE' mean?" she asked, running her finger under the word as she spoke.

"Appropriate? It's like…uh…" Liz scratched her head, trying to come up with a good definition.

"It's when something is fitting or suited to the current state of affairs," interrupted Kidd monotonously, rethreading his needle.

"There you go, Patty," beamed Liz. She _loved_ how Kidd could just articulate himself like that; everything he said sounded so intelligent. When Liz tried to imitate this, she just came out confused, or silly. Patty was nodding and frowning to herself in mock thought, deliberately ridiculing the way Kidd looked when he read the news. The fact that she was making fun of him again told Liz that Patty was feeling considerably better.

Still, it would put Liz at ease to know that Gerald was definitely fixed for Patty. Leaning in close, she tried to get a good look at how his 'wound' was coming along. Irritably, Kidd batted her out the way. "Stop that, I can't see."

* * *

Moving back to a respectful distance, Liz trailed her fingers in the sewing box, running them through the endless tangles of thread and neatly folded lengths of silken ribbons. Suddenly she gave a gasp of pain, and withdrew her hand to see a wickedly long needle punctured deep into her fingertip. Wincing, she slid it out and watched a fat red bead of blood force its way through the damaged skin.

Kidd had looked up at her exclamation and was surveying her sternly through his black and white fringe. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she said hastily, shoving the needle back into the box and pressing her thumb to her finger. Better let him deal with one problem at a time. While he returned to his sewing, she surreptitiously slid her finger into her mouth, feeling the salty tang dance across her tongue.

As the throbbing pain faded rapidly from her finger, she returned to watching Kidd work. His eyelids were half-closed with concentration, the nape of his neck smooth and curved as he bent towards the inert giraffe form. Once or twice Liz opened her mouth, keen to say something, _anything._ But she couldn't find the right words. She never could. Not like Kidd.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kidd sat back with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, obsessively straightening the sides and back. "There you go."

Instantly Patty was on her feet and seizing Gerald with a rare tenderness. Liz craned with her to examine what was left of the hole. It was practically invisible, closed forever by Kidd's handiwork. Laughing happily, Patty whirled the toy high in the air and compressed in a delighted embrace. "Thanks, Kidd! Thankies _so much!_"

"It's nothing," he muttered, putting the scissors back in the sewing box. He glanced at Liz as he did so, and frowned. "Why are you licking your finger?"

Starting, she snatched her hand away from her mouth. "I'm not."

"Yes you were."

"It was sticky."

"Stop being stupid," he scowled, and held out his hand. "Let me see."

Feeling like a naughty child at school, she put her hand in his and watched him scrutinise the finger, awaiting reprimand. His scowl deepened and he looked up at her.

"Why didn't you say your finger was bleeding?"

"It doesn't hurt."

"It might get infected."

Always so paranoid, she thought. Out loud, she said, "You don't have to worry so much, Kidd."

"Yeah I do," he said, and gently dabbed at the hole in her finger with a tissue. "Because if I don't worry about you, no one will."


	5. Sorry, I'm an insomniac

_The dark smothers her, crushing the air from her already gasping lungs as she runs. All she can do is concentrate on her feet, concentrate on placing one in front of the other. Her hands are desperately empty; she'd dropped Patty a long way back._

_She'd dropped Patty._

_That hurt. Somewhere in the dark Patty is lying still and helpless in gun form – she was always in gun form in this dream – without anyone to help her. Because Liz isn't there for her. And Kidd would be unable to wield Patty if he found her, because Liz isn't there for him. _

_Finally she stops, breath sawing in her lungs. She doesn't want to stop, not here. But she can't help it; it's what's supposed to happen. She already knows what's coming next, as though this were a script in a pathetically predictable film. It always begins slowly, just one or two sets of eyes at first. Terrified she stands there, hugging herself for comfort as they approach lopsidedly, as though whatever owns them is limping. There are teeth too, inexplicably glowing through the dark, big and menacing._

_And they laugh. It's a low, guttural sound that chills her bones, causes the bile of fear to surge up her throat until she wants to faint with fear. Now the dark air is thick with monsters, all clashing their teeth and hungry for her. _

_Hungry for _her.

_Liz screams._

Liz screamed.

Something huge and unwieldy was pressing on her, smothering her like darkness. Frantically, she kicked and struggled until the duvet slid sadly off her onto the floor to collapse in a rejected heap. For a long time Liz sat there, hugging her knees to her chest and breathing hard, sweat shimmering on her pale face in the dark. Her breath shuddered and she gulped, eyes closed and trying to block out the awful memories.

Dreams, Kidd had once explained, were visions of the subconscious. The brain's way of interpreting what we weren't even aware we were thinking. This was all rubbish to Liz; she _knew_ exactly what this nightmare – it did not deserve to be called a _dream_ – was about. Moaning, she put her head in her hands as the memories, _real_ memories, flooded back. The mission to a remote abandoned village. The haunting cries of the kishin egg and the glowing eyes emerging from the darkness. Again she felt the sudden rush of air as the _thing_ swiped at Kidd, knocking him off his feet and flinging Liz and Patty far out of reach.

Liz had felt confident, assured. There was no time to be scared; she transformed, snatched Patty up and turned her on the shadows. And then it struck out at her, and she'd felt Patty slip from her grasp – _she'd dropped Patty._ In desperation Liz had scrabbled in the dark for her sister, and then Kidd had cried out in pain. The sound pierced Liz like a spear and she had screamed back at him, with a sound she hadn't even known it was possible to make.

Of course it was, as Patty had put it, all in a day's work. _All in a day's work_. Liz hated the phrase; as if one could make going to hell and back a daily chore. The terror of losing Patty, and the terror of losing Kidd, had been almost more than she could stand. These recurring nightmares had proved that much.

She sniffled to herself in the dark, and hastily wiped her nose. Sitting here frightening herself was not going to fix anything. After some hesitation, she swung her legs over the edge of bed, screwing her eyes up as she did so and trying desperately _not_ to remember every monster-under-the-bed story she'd ever heard.

With nervous baby steps, she inched to the bedroom door, shoulders hunched defensively. The door squeaked slightly as she eased it open and she froze, like a rabbit caught in headlights. After several long seconds, she breathed out again and slipped noiselessly through the narrow gap onto the landing. Everything was grey with gloom and horrific shapes seemed to loom out at her from the deeper shadows. Breathing loudly and with her heart hammering as though it wanted to break out of her chest, Liz minced across the carpet to Patty's room.

The curtain flapped like a thing possessed against the open window. Patty was spread out under her brightly patterned duvet, snoring like a steam engine. Hovering uncertainly in the doorway, Liz swallowed hard. Patty got nightmares too, all the time. How many times had Liz been woken in the night by the small warm form worming its way under her duvet, by Patty's small frightened hand slipping automatically into her own? It was all right for the younger sister to seek comfort, but Liz felt faintly embarrassed about waking Patty up, and telling her she'd had a nightmare.

Kidd, then. Oh, he'd be annoyed. He'd snap at her for waking him up, and tell her not to be so silly. But he'd listen. He'd cancel out the nightmares with his cool reason and complicated explanations. The thought of him soothed Liz's petrified thoughts and after one more slightly wistful look at Patty, she shut the door as quietly as she could and stole down the corridor once more.

Before she could begin doubting herself, Liz pushed his bedroom door open and shuffled in, closing it behind her. The corridor was too unearthly, too still. She wanted to shut that ghost world out. Through the darkness she heard Kidd's steady breathing, and hobbled towards the sound, nearly tripping on the edge of the bed when she reached it.

As her eyes got accustomed to the shadows, she could just make him out, a pale blur in the night. Reaching out, she tapped his shoulder gingerly. No response, beyond a sleepy mumble. The darkness was pressing in once more, and she cowered from the monsters that hid in the corners. Throwing etiquette out the window, she scrambled onto the bed and yanked the covers over herself, burying her face in the soft material that smelt strongly of Kidd. Next to her, he sighed and turned over in his sleep, so she was staring right at his sleeping face.

So peaceful. She couldn't bring herself to wake him up, to unload all of her problems onto him. Instead she laid herself more comfortably on her side and attempted to shut out the nightmares all by herself. It was much easier with Kidd there; he gave her something to focus on.

Liz had watched Patty sleep many times. Patty always dreamed, because her eyelids fluttered like sleepy butterflies as she dozed. Sometimes Patty would laugh, actually laugh out loud, in her sleep. Kidd was perfectly still. The only sign of life was the gentle quiver of his hair, stirred by his breathing. She settled her head comfortably next to his on the pillow and closed her eyes, revelling in the warmth of his body and the scent of his skin. Her hair fanned out untidily around her, and festooned itself around Kidd's head, the flaxen gold overlaying the glossy black.

* * *

When she awoke, her eyes instinctively screwed themselves up against the sunlight. She sat up, realising the absence of Kidd's warmth, and then reddening as she remembered her helplessness of the night before. Praying that he hadn't told Patty he'd woken up with Liz in his bed, she swung her legs around and slid onto the cold wooden floor.

Propped up on the desk was a note. Curiously, she flipped it open and scanned the spidery black script.

'_You need to sort out your snoring problem.'_


	6. Just one picture, please

_Click_

"Patty!" cried Liz in exasperation, glaring from the tiny screen in her hands to the real, full-sized Patty in front of her. "I just want _one_ nice photo of you!"

"Hee!" Smiling cheekily, Patty blew her cheeks out at Liz. "That _was_ a nice one, sis!"

"Huh," grumbled Liz, pressing a button on the shiny new compact digital camera and flicking through the ten pictures of Patty it already contained. "Look…you've blinked here…and here…and here…your tongue's out here…and here…_and_ here…"

Sighing, she flicked the camera off. "I guess I'll take what I've got." Patty held her hands out for the camera, grinning expectantly. Liz clutched it close to her chest. "It was a present!"

"My turn!"

"You'll be careful?"

"_Ever_ so careful."

"Hmm." Liz looked suspiciously from the camera to Patty. "No running? No dropping it? No putting it down the toilet?"

"Yes," said Patty impatiently, clapping her hands. "Gimme!"

Reluctantly Liz handed it over. Immediately Patty flicked it on and aimed it at her sister. "Smile, sis! Smile!"

"Noo!" Liz flew her arms up in front of her face. "I look _disgusting_ in photos!"

"Bleah!" squealed Patty teasingly, waving the little screen in front of her face. "I gotcha, I gotcha!"

"No!" Wildly Liz made a grab for the camera. "Delete it! Now!"

"No!" mimicked Patty, sticking her tongue out. "I'm going to take photos of my room."

Defeated, Liz slumped on the sofa and watched Patty dance away, clicking the camera at anything that moved, and a good deal of things that didn't. It looked like she wasn't going to see the thing again for a while.

An outraged yell jolted her upright, and she cocked her head curiously towards the sounds emanating from the corridor.

"Stop that! _No_ photos Patty!"

"Patty's a paparazzi! Patty's the _Pattarazzi!_"

"Give me that camera!"

"S'not yours!"

"Stop with the photos!"

There was a sound of a slamming door and Liz thought she caught the hasty pattering of Patty's sandaled feet.

A moment later, and Kidd stormed into the room. He pointed accusingly at her, and she went cross-eyed trying to keep his finger in focus. "You."

"Me?"

"You gave her the camera!"

"Not _willingly_," insisted Liz, batting his arm out of her face.

"Liar!"

"She got me too, don't worry."

"She'd better get rid of those photos…they're so…augh!" He seized handfuls of his hair in frustration and sank to his knees. "Unsymmetrical! I look hideous in them!"

Trying very hard not to giggle, Liz leaned forward and patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "I should think everyone does, unless they're photographed head-on."

He glowered up at her. "I don't look symmetrical even then," he snapped, gesturing violently at his head. "I can't stand it." Sighing heavily, he staggered to his feet and slouched towards the door. "Ugh…I'm going to take a shower."

"Watch out for Patty," called Liz warningly. "She's not above photographing you as you get out."

"I know, I know," he muttered.

She watched his retreating back as he plodded slowly down the corridor, hanging his head. God, what was _wrong_ with him? Symmetry this, symmetry that…

"Geez," she yawned, and stretched. Maybe it was time to think about lunch, although she wasn't really that hungry…

"Sis!" Patty careened madly into the room, the camera swinging wildly from her neck. "Look at my photos!"

"Okay, okay!" Liz grabbed Patty's wrist to stop the screen from shaking all over the place.

Patty's photography skills were, to put it nicely, not that good. What _was_ that? Liz squinted. It looked like…a flower, possibly. Something in the garden anyway, since the rest of the picture was very green. There were a good deal of photos of Patty's nose, several of the inside of her mouth, literally hundreds of her stuffed animals and even one or two of Shinigami as he left the house for Shibusen.

"You like them, huh?"

"Yeah, they're really cool," said Liz, patting her sister's head. "I think you're very talented. What's this one?"

"That's Kidd."

"What?" She turned the camera upside down, to see if it made better sense that way. "Is it?"

Patty pointed at a whitish blur. "There's his chin." She frowned. "Or maybe it's his hair."

Whatever it was, the picture was very blurry. As was the next. And the next. Liz rolled her eyes. "Patty, you can't see his face in any of them."

Laughing, Patty shrugged sheepishly. "He wouldn't keep still, sis!"

Patty's face flashed up on screen. "And we're back to my photos again. Hey, it's me!"

The picture of Liz was slightly blurred; her arm was just leaping to cover her horrified face. Automatically Liz moved her thumb to the delete button, but was stopped short by Patty's shriek of alarm.

"No, sis! We need a photo of you!"

"Take another one."

"I like_ that _one," said Patty firmly.

Sighing, Liz switched the camera off. "Okay fine." She stood up and took Patty's arm. "How about some lunch, then?"

"Pizza!" cried Patty, rubbing her stomach. "Let's have pepperoni pizza!"

"Kind of unhealthy, don't you think?" Liz ran a hand through her hair. "But on the other hand, I can't really be bothered to cook…" She clapped a hand to Patty's shoulder. "All right then, you go and call the takeout."

"Yes!" Punching the air, Patty dashed out the room, chanting 'Pizza! Pizza!' all the way. Thoughtfully, Liz turned the camera on and switched it to 'Auto'. She'd never tried her hand at photography before, but it did seem fun. Zooming in on a light fixture, she pushed the button and heard the contraption beep warningly before accepting the image with a _click_.

Scrutinising the resultant photo, she shrugged. It was a damn sight better than Patty's, that was for sure. No blurriness for a start.

Patty herself leaned out from another door, beaming happily. "They're coming round, sis! With pizza!"

"Okay." Liz was still frowning at the camera, wondering what 'AF' meant. "You go lay the table…I'll go see if Kidd's ready."

As she slowly climbed the carpeted stairs, Liz pressed button after button, totally engrossed in the many settings of the tiny little camera. She had no idea what each did, but they certainly sounded impressive. She almost walked past the bathroom door, but glanced up at the last minute.

Lowering the camera, she banged on the door. "Kidd! Patty's ordered pizza for lunch."

After a brief pause, she heard the lock click and stepped back. As he came out onto the landing, she suddenly smiled wickedly, whipped the camera up and pushed the button.

It took Kidd a few seconds to realise what had happened. His mouth opened in fury and he lunged for the camera, the towel around his neck swinging crazily. "Liz! You – you…!"

She held it high out of his reach, giggling as he jumped futilely to reach it. "Quit fussing! It's a good photo!"

"It is _not_!" he howled, making mad swipes. "_Give me the camera!_"

Nimbly, she jogged out of his reach and turned the camera on him once more. "Gotcha!"

"Stop that!" he snarled, advancing on her.

Finally conceding defeat, she turned the camera off and held her hands up. "Okay, okay."

He stopped in front of her and held out one hand commandingly. "Give me the camera."

"No."

Scowling, he stamped one foot. "I'm telling you to give me the camera, Liz!"

"You'll just delete the photos."

"Yeah, I will! They're hideous!"

"You haven't seen them," protested Liz, holding it above her head just in case.

"Then show me them."

Warily, she turned the camera back on and lowered it slowly, in case he made a grab for it. "See?" For the first time, the photo was perfectly clear, throwing Kidd's handsome features into sharp relief. His intense gaze stared out from the wet hair still clinging to his forehead.

He squinted at the screen. "No, delete it."

"But you look really – nice!" Liz reddened and flicked to the second one. "I mean…you know what I mean."

Incredulously, he stared at the minuscule version of himself glowering up from the camera. "I look really…_scary_."

"Huh?" Liz twisted the camera towards her. "You do, a bit." Inwardly she smiled at the ferocious expression twisting his face; it was somehow quite cute. "I guess you can be pretty scary sometimes," she mused, tousling his damp hair. "Sets you in good stead for the future, eh?"

Irritably, he ducked out from under her hand and patted his head, smoothing the hair down. Pulling the towel from around his neck, he disappeared under it as he dried his hair, talking all the while with a muffled tone. "Why did you let Patty order pizza anyway? I thought you wanted to go on a diet, and pizza's hardly healthy, is it?"

He appeared once more, face slightly pink and hair all over the place. "You need to be more careful about what you eat, you know."

Although he'd asked her not to, Liz couldn't help it. The camera came up, and the shutter clicked. Bang, cute little Kidd with his hair sticking up everywhere was preserved forever.

"_Liz!_"

"Whoops!"

Again he leapt desperately for the camera. "That does it! Give me that!"

"No way!" Liz turned and started to run off, with Kidd hot on her heels. "I'm getting prints of these!"

"No! No, you are not!"

"Oh come _on_ Kidd," she said in exasperation, stopping so suddenly at the bottom of the stairs that he crashed into her with an outraged yell. "I hate having my photo taken too, but it's the principle of the thing, y'see?"

"What're you talking about?" he muttered grumpily as she helped him to his feet.

"I've got a photo of Patty by my bed, and even one of me and Maka and Tsubaki." Liz put her hands on her hips and surveyed him sternly. "But not one of you. Because you never let me take a nice one."

Before he could attempt another grab at the camera, she jogged off again, waving it tauntingly. "Besides, you look _so hot_ with your hair all wet!"


	7. I am your 'The'

**I don't normally like adding little notes up here, but I guess I should apologise for the awful quality and pathetic shortness of this chapter -_- I've been very busy, so sorry guys owo

It always irritated Liz no end when she was in class, and Professor Stein would say something along the lines of: "Death the Kidd, you're up." Or: "Maka Albarn, your turn." Or: "Black Star, let's see what you can do."

It was his way of calling upon a meister and their weapon. So how come the weapons in question never got a mention? Sure, "Death the Kidd, Elizabeth and Patricia Thompson" was a bit of a mouthful, but she didn't like how people just _assumed_ that 'Death the Kidd' also meant her and Patty. Like they came in a package deal with him or something. Patty didn't seem to mind; she just followed faithfully after Liz and Kidd like a big clumsy puppy, and found no discrimination whatsoever in naming a meister over the weapon.

Liz brought it up over dinner once.

"Who's more important?"

"What?" Kidd paused, his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Who's more important – me, or you?" demanded Liz.

He frowned. "Is this some kind of quiz?"

"No, stupid," she scowled. "I mean – in a team, who's more important? The technician - " she indicated him with her fork. " – or the weapons?"

"They're both equally important," he replied instantly.

Liz rolled her eyes. "Well, that's the _proper_ answer, sure. But I mean _really_. Why do people always seem to pay more attention to the meister?"

"It's 'cause no one ever notices us as pistols," explained Patty from the other side of the table, spaghetti plastered over her chin.

Looking faintly nauseated, Kidd pushed a napkin at her. "Stop being so untidy."

"Isn't that a bit unfair?" pressed Liz, her plate sitting abandoned in front of her. "You wouldn't be able to do any fighting without one of us."

"Liz, it's not like that," sighed Kidd, resting his head on one hand and observing her intently. "No one's more important in this. We're a team."

"The Death the Kidd Team," interjected Patty, the napkin hanging out of her mouth.

"Which is you," added Liz a little sourly.

"No, it's us," explained Kidd. He held up three fingers. "Death. The. Kidd. Three letters. Three of us."

"That makes…no sense," said Liz slowly, finally making a start on her spaghetti.

"Okay, fine," he sighed. "If you want to be difficult."

"But it doesn't. Are you trying to say we're just…we're all _words_ or something?" Liz said, trying not to laugh.

He shrugged, infuriatingly. "Let it drop, Liz," he muttered, clearly already bored with this conversation.

Patty swallowed noisily. "He's the 'Death'" she said cheerfully, jabbing her fork at Kidd.

"Because he's a Shinigami?" said Liz, raising one eyebrow. Patty had actually said something sensible for once. Thoughtfully Liz twirled her fork. If she was going to play Patty's game, she'd say that Patty was definitely the 'Kid' of the team. The childish one, although Kidd certainly had his childish moments, it had to be said.

"So you'd be the 'The'." Kidd's voice dragged her back to her senses, and she found herself staring at him across the table, wondering (and not for the first time) if he'd read her mind.

"Yeah. That's me. The dull and cliché one."

"The _necessary_ one," he corrected her, wagging one finger playfully. "The one that makes the whole sentence make sense."

"Death Kid," said Patty slowly. She frowned. "Nope. Doesn't make sense."

Kidd grinned at her. "You're the middle bit. The one that holds the whole thing together."

He got to his feet while Liz was still taking this in, and patted her head as he walked past. "Now don't ever let me hear you saying you're dull ever again."


	8. Taking the Lead

"Huh?" Liz Thompson lowered her hands from her long flaxen hair and frowned at the ceiling. What was that sound? She shrugged and turned back to her dressing table, trying to concentrate on her reflection. After a few fruitless minutes of attempting to pin her hair up in an interesting way, she let it tumble back to her bare shoulders with a sigh of frustration and stormed out of the room, bashing the door on the wall on her way out.

As she stomped up the stairs - but not _too_ hard, these shoes were expensive - the affluent, floaty powder blue material of her dress slid fluidly over the carpet, gathering itself elegant about her ankles when she paused at the landing, frowning to determine the source of the muffled music. Honestly, how was she ever going to make herself look presentable for this party if people insisted on disturbing her? In fact…she glanced at the grandfather clock as she passed it, and saw to her horror that she was already twenty minutes behind schedule.

"Hey!" The door to what Shinigami called the 'long gallery' was closed, and she banged on it insistently. There was a scuffling sound, and the music was abruptly cut off. The door creaked open slightly. Kidd's pale face appeared in the crack, and he stared at her. "Can I help you?"

She tutted. "Yes, you can. Can't you keep the music playing down? I'm trying to get ready downstairs."

He opened the door a little wider and scratched his head awkwardly. "Well, I'm kind of trying to choose music for Father's entertainment this evening…"

"Well, yeah, but…" Irritated, she put her hands on her hips. "It's distracting. And it makes Patty dance in her room, she'll be exhausted before this evening's even started."

Kidd looked at his watch, and gave Liz a sardonic look. "Oh, well, we've only got six and a half hours until the guests start arriving, what was I _thinking_?" he said rather acerbically.

"All right, no need to get snippy," snapped Liz.

"Snippy yourself," he replied, and made to close the door. Liz stuck her elbow in the gap and prised it open again. "Let's hear the music you've chosen then."

He sighed and let her in. Liz gathered her skirts up and flounced in, her blue skirts flying behind her. She'd never really been in the long gallery before, as far as she could remember, and now she gazed curiously around at the surroundings. It was, as expected, very long, covering the whole front of the house, with enormous floor-to-ceiling windows covering the wall opposite the door. The floor was shiny and hard, made of some sort of richly decorated marble. The ceiling and walls were adorned with opulent carvings and gilded fixtures that shone warmly in the crystal chandelier.

"Wow," breathed Liz, closing the door behind her.

"Yeah…wow," repeated Kidd, staring at her. She turned quickly, and looked hard at him. "What?"

He flushed slightly. "That dress…you look…" There was a pregnant pause, in which Kidd took in the white bodice that clung delicately to her figure, that slowly graduated to a soft sky blue in a shimmery, bubbly net material that swung gracefully around her high-heeled feet. "Is that what you're wearing tonight?"

She patted her hair self-consciously. "Yeah…""Well, it looks amazing." Liz giggled in spite of herself. "Aw, thanks. You look pretty sharp yourself." Kidd returned her compliment with an embarrassed scowl, and adjusted his collar. His shirt was crisp and white, contrasting sharply with the dark grey of his peaked-lapel, double-breasted jacket. Underneath Liz could see a paler grey, striped waistcoat and a beautiful silken navy cravat tidily tied underneath the shirt collar. She grinned at him. "And you're already dressed too, Mr. _We've got six hours_."

"Huh."

The long gallery had a few polished mahogany tables dotted along its length, and an old fashion gramophone was sitting on the nearest one. Kidd lifted the needle and removed a record, adding it to a pile that was already sitting on a nearby chair. "Don't like that one either."

"Is that your dad's music?"

"Yeah," he sighed, tugging his suit jacket over his trousers. "I like the same stuff as him, but…well, I don't know what's _right_ for this party."

"Well…" Liz breezed over to his side and began fingering through a box of records Kidd had next to him on the floor. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"It's a formal party," said Kidd. "You know, cocktails, probably dancing, but then again…Maka and that lot are coming too, and what if they think Father's music is boring?"

"You _worry_ too much," laughed Liz, sliding a record out of its cover and slinking over to the gramophone. "At formal parties, people just need background music, something to add atmosphere and to dance to."

She slotted the record into place and carefully laid the needle down. They both watched as the glossy black plate began to spin faster and faster, and a solemn but rather melodious piano tune began playing.

"See?" said Liz happily, rocking slowly in time with it. "That's pretty, what is it?"

"A slow waltz," said Kidd, putting his hands behind his back and strolling over to look out of one of the enormous windows that overlooked their expansive garden. "Or the English Waltz, to be more precise. Slower and I think rather nicer than the Viennese Waltz, it originated in the 1930s or 20s, I think."

Liz blew out an impressed breath, and began slowly turning on the spot, enjoying the beat of the song. "What's the Viennese Waltz?"

"Oh, never mind," he answered, turning away from the window. "I suppose an English Waltz would be acceptable for the evening."

Rolling her eyes, Liz stuck her arms above her head and twirled a little faster. "Always so _serious_, Kidd."

"Liz, if we have the wrong song, people may not be able to dance," said Kidd, his mouth twitching in amusement at her ignorance. "Can you imagine if I chose a tango, for example?"

"No, because I don't really know the difference between all these dances," she sighed in exasperation.

"All right." Kidd strode over to her, and extended his hand towards her. She stared at it. "What?"

"Take my hand," said Kidd. "I'll show you how to waltz."

"I _know_ how to waltz," she sniffed, sticking her nose in the air. "I'm not _totally _inrefined."

"That's _un_refined," he corrected her with a smile. "And you clearly _can't_ waltz Liz, since you don't know the difference between the Viennese and the English."

"All right, all right," she said, biting her lip, and putting her hand in his. He pulled her gently towards him, and gripped her hand tight, putting his other hand on her dress-clad waist. At this, Liz squealed and recoiled slightly. "Excuse _me_!"

"Liz," said Kidd patiently. "It's how the waltz is done."

"Oh, really?""It's a closed position dance," he explained carefully. Liz look blankly at him. He smiled at her. "Closed position. Look…"

He raised their clasped hands, and she looked dumbly at them. "See, the held hands come to roughly shoulder height."

Lightly he guided her other hand to his right shoulder. "The follower's left hand goes here."

"Okay…" She looked a little doubtful, but decided to hear him out.

"And my other hand goes on your back." He rested his palm in the small of her back, just in the curve of her waist. Liz blushed bright pink and returned his smile. "Okay…"

The music was still playing in the background, echoing slightly in the polished gallery. Kidd's expensive brogues squeaked slightly on the marble floor as he began turning her slowly on the spot, leading her into a slow but graceful waltz. She tightened her hand on his jacketed shoulder and allowed him to guide her around the room.

He grinned up at her. "Usually the leader _is_ the taller one, of course," he said dryly, and Liz smiled rather triumphantly.

Her patent high heels clicked on the floor as she imitated his neat steps and turned in his arms. Her skirt swished slightly as they twirled, spinning around her calves like a whirlpool. She closed her eyes happily and allowed the music to wash over her. "So Kidd, how is the Vietnamese Waltz different to this one?"

"The Viennese Waltz," he rectified her once more. "Well," he continued musingly, looking contemplatively at the ceiling as they danced. "It's a good deal faster, and tends to rotate in a different manner, using different steps. The closed position used is slightly different too."

Liz frowned. "How can you hold your partner any different? They all look the same to me when I see it on television."

"I would put my hand more like this - " He moved it further around her, placing his hand higher up her back and embracing her waist in the crook of his elbow. "And you put your arm around my neck."

He looked expectantly at her. After a moment's hesitation, Liz lifted her hand and instead draped her entire arm across his shoulders. "Why do dancers have this closed position thing anyway?"

"Hmm," Kidd turned on the spot, holding her close. "I'm not sure. I guess dance started as something between lovers, so it just represents intimacy."

"Oh, don't talk like that," mumbled Liz, clinging tighter to him. "I shouldn't blush…red doesn't go with my dress."

"It goes with your cheeks," he said diffidently, staring fixedly at a point somewhere above her shoulder. "Well…you know what I mean."

"Sure, whatever."

They danced slowly around the room, covering nearly half the length of the entire long gallery. Eventually the music faded out, and they too ground to a halt. For a moment they remained where they were, still with their arms wrapped around each other, and then Kidd slipped his hand out of hers and dropped his hand from her back. "You're quite good, Liz."

She smiled at him and looked into his eyes, blue meeting gold. "You're a good teacher." Before removing her arm from his neck, she gave him a brief one-armed hug and then stepped quickly back. He adjusted his cravat self-consciously and smoothed his hair down. "Um, thank you."

"So, you choosing that record?" she asked, twirling her hair around one finger.

"Yeah, why not," he muttered, and carefully put it back into its case. "Maybe I'll go with a Viennese Waltz too, and I'll teach it to you later."

"That sounds fun," she said eagerly, and swaggered over to the door. "I think I'll go and finish getting ready."

"You do that."

She paused at the door and stood there for a few minutes, watching him polish a record with his sleeve.

* * *

"I feel a bit out of place," whispered Tsubaki nervously to Maka.

The younger girl smiled encouragingly. "It's okay Tsubaki. I'm not used to these fancy places either."

Soul grinned and tugged at his tie. "I think it's pretty cool."

Black Star sniffed. "Eh, I don't think much of the music."

Maka scowled. "Black Star, it's _classy_." She spread her arms wide. "Just look at all these dancers! Soul, why don't we - "

Black Star nudged her. "Hey, check it out." They all followed his pointing finger to the middle of the room, and Soul gaped. "That's not fair, where did Kidd learn to dance like _that_?"

"Probably takes dancing lessons or something," sniggered Black Star.

Tall and blonde, Liz whirled around in Kidd's arms, her face alight and ecstatic under the candlelight.

"They do dance well together," admitted Tsubaki. "And Liz looks so pretty in that dress."

They all fell silent, and watched the couple for a bit.

Black Star coughed. "So what, does he have to marry her now or something?" He looked indignantly around at all their incredulous faces. "_What?"_


	9. The Lucky Little Bugger

Looking back, Death the Kidd was still not entirely sure why he did it. Patty certainly had a hand in it; she'd been persistently badgering him about it for _ages_, but in the end it had still been him who'd made the decision. Maybe it had been entirely Patty, or maybe it had been his own secret liking of the idea, and the feeling that Liz deserved something special for her birthday this year. Whatever the reason, it _had_ been entirely worth it, just to see that look on her face. It still made him smile, even to this day. But that wasn't to say that what happened held _entirely _happy memories for Kidd, and he still looked on the events that followed her birthday as a rather odd, if not uncomfortable, experience to say the least.

Liz bounced down the stairs, her long sandy flying behind her as she came to an excited halt at the bottom, where she danced from one foot to the other, shrieking rather like Patty did when promised candy. "Ooh! Present! What is it? Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

Standing in front of her, arms folded, Kidd rolled his eyes and allowed himself a small smile. "Okay Liz, calm down! Stop jiggling me!"

"Eyaaahh!" she squealed, releasing him and pressing her fingers to her mouth in excitement. "I can't help it! Patty said it was something _really good_! What is it? Oh, tell me! Tell me!"

Kidd laughed and gestured. "Okay, _okay_! It's in the living room." He pulled Liz to the closed door, grinning in a rather superior manner. "Ready?"

Frowning, Liz shrugged him off and pressed herself against the door, listening intently. "What's the weird sound I can hear?"

"That's your present, Liz," replied Kidd, yanking her back and placing a hand on the door handle. "I'll show you."

Stifling a laugh, Kidd shoved Liz into the living room and slipped in after her, closing the door carefully. Liz stood limply where she was, staring in amazement at what she was seeing.

After a moment Kidd realised that Liz wasn't about to do anything in the next few minutes, and he pushed past her to the middle of the room, where the carpet was covered in a large spread of newspaper. Rolling happily in the middle, waving its tiny white paws in the air, was a small black and white kitten. With a sharp smile in Liz's direction, Kidd bent down and scooped the fluffy animal off the floor.

As he carried it carefully over to Liz, the kitten squirmed in his grip, twisting its paws in the dark sleeves of his suit. Watching Liz with a broad grin, Kidd leaned over and tipped the kitten into her arms. She cradled it carefully, staring down at it with her mouth hanging open in wonder.

"Well?" asked Kidd, tucking his hands behind his back. "Are you pleased?"

"Oh, _Kidd_. It's so cute…" Liz raised a hand and began playfully tickling the kitten. It blinked up at her with enormous yellow eyes, and batted her finger with one paw. The pads were soft, pink and warm, fringed with downy white fur. Beyond that the kitten's legs turned to a glossy jet back that shone healthily under the house lights. There was a thick strip of white fur underneath its delicate little chin that extended down its chest and under its belly. The tip of its tail was also pure white, and it was waving it gently as it considered its new mother.

"Kyahh!" Liz suddenly exploded with glee and cuddled the kitten close, causing it to mew with surprise. "I _love _it, Kidd! Oh my god, I can't believe you did this for me! Oh, thank you _so much!_"

"Well," said Kidd, coughing awkwardly, rubbing his neck and grinning again, this time in embarrassment. "It wasn't just me, Liz. Patty suggested it in the first place, she was the one that really persuaded me. Sorry it's a week late, but I wanted to get you the right kitten from the right breeder, and this was the only one with a symmetrical coat. We had to wait for him to be old enough."

He stuck his hands in his pockets and watch fondly as Liz cooed delightedly over the kitten, rubbing its ears and tickling its tiny pink nose.

"So, what are you going to call him?" asked Kidd curiously.

"Huh?" Liz looked up at him, and then back down at her new pet. Carefully she knelt down and set the kitten back on the floor, where it sat stupidly for a moment, wrinkling its nose and mewing bemusedly to itself. Liz squatted next to it, her hands resting on her knees, and considered. "Well, he's gonna be a Shinigami's cat, isn't he? I think I'll call him…Chi."

Kidd raised on eyebrow. "Chi?"

"Yeah," insisted Liz, glancing up at him defensively. "Like the word for Death." Gently she put her hands underneath Chi's fragile little tummy and picked him up, cradling him close to her chest. "Little Chi."

Chi wriggled for a moment in Liz's grip, and then relaxed, stretching his mouth open in a huge yawn, revealing shockingly pink gums and needle sharp teeth. His tongue flicked out to clean the tender pink triangle of his nose, and with a little squeak of contentment Chi buried his face in Liz's breast, curling up tight and tucking his paws neatly away to become a small heaving ball of black and white fur.

"Aww!" Liz cuddled him affectionately to her, squashing her chest underneath the sleeping kitten. "He's sleepy!"

"I set up some stuff for him in the kitchen," called Kidd as she turned to leave the room.

"Oh, thank you Kidd," she said over her shoulder, giggling as Chi suddenly struggled in her grip, attempting to climb up her shirt. As Kidd watched Liz's retreating back, the kitten's white paws appeared on the dark blue material of Liz's t-shirt shoulder, followed by his ebony face. Chi blinked his deep yellow eyes and watched Kidd curiously as he was ferried away.

***

Kidd lowered his fork yet again and lifted the tablecloth irritably. "Liz!"

On the other side of the table, she looked up innocently, her mouth full of pasta. "What?"

Sighing, he gestured towards the floor. "Chi's doing it again, can't you just get him out of here?" He bent down and glowered down at his feet, where his shoes were being insistently patted by a small ball of black and white fuzz.

"Kidd, I can't turn him out of the kitchen," whined Liz, clasping her hands together. "It's warm in here, and its where his bed is, he likes it in here!"

"I don't care," he said rather snappishly, throwing his fork down and shoving his chair away from the kitchen table. To his intense frustration, the movement only excited the kitten, and he bounded eagerly after his shoe with outstretched claws. Angrily Kidd flicked his shoe but Chi clung stoically on, flicking his tail enthusiastically.

"Don't, Kidd!" shrieked Liz, leaping up from her seat and dashing around to Kidd. She lunged at Chi, shoving Kidd's feet away and scooping the kitten into her arms, cradling him close and cooing gently. "You'll hurt him!"

"Of course I won't," he snapped in reply, pulling himself back to the tale and snatching his fork back up. "But he was making my feet asymmetric! And he'd been chewing my trousers all evening! Please, just get him out of here."

"He hates to be away from his Mamma," pouted Liz, smothering his petite head with affectionate kisses. "I'll give him some dinner."

As Liz stalked away from the table to rifle through the higher of the kitchen cupboards, Kidd returned to his dinner with a barrage of insidious muttering. He stabbed at a piece of pasta with particular vehemence, and glared at the tomato sauce that dripped sadly from his fork.

Across the table, Patty suddenly exploded with laughter, red sauce splattered around her wide, beaming mouth. She dragged an arm across her stained face and grinned at Kidd. "Liz sure loves her little kitty, huh Kidd?"

"Yeah, I know."

She tilted her head to one side and blinked her large blue eyes at him. "Isn't that good?"

He heaved a huge sigh. "I know it's good Patty…of _course _it's good…it's just that…I wish she would _spoil_ the damn thing so much."

"I don't _spoil_ him," muttered Liz, returning to sit at the table. She threw an affectionate look to an area of the floor by the fridge that was spread with a small blue mat. Laid out were two plastic bowls, one filled with clear water and the other with a dark meat sludge. Chi was crouched there, face deep in cat food, slurping contentedly.

"Huh," grunted Kidd, returning to toying with the remains of his pasta.

***

Maybe it was Kidd's imagination, but he felt that in the following week Chi appeared determined to get under his feet. Every time Kidd tried to vacuum the front room, the kitten was there, batting playfully at the cable and even trying to pull it out of the plug. When he sat down to study at his desk, Chi would be there, chewing his shoelaces, and his socks if he took his shoes off.

Worse still, Liz didn't appear to think anything of it. She absolutely doted on the kitten, and if Kidd ever tried to complain to her, she'd insist he was making things up.

"He's just a little kitten, Kidd!" Liz said indignantly, rubbing Chi between the ears. "He doesn't know any better!"

"Look at my curtains!" he cried, gesturing to the window with his pencil. The bottoms were terribly shredded and frayed, covered with the remains of yet another session of Chi's frantic clawing. "He didn't even do it symmetrically!"

"Aw, he didn't mean it, did you? Did you, you naughty little fluffy baby? No, you didn't, of course you didn't. Kidd's a nasty ol' Shinigami, isn't he? Isn't he?" As she spoke, Liz tickled Chi lovingly, and he mewed happily. Liz stalked over to Kidd's side and thrust the kitten into his face. "Now apologise to him!"

"Hey!" Kidd leaned back, glaring at Chi's soft, innocent face. "Get him away from me!"

"You've upset him, see?" insisted Liz, tickling under Chi's velvety chin.

Biting his lip, Kidd lowered his gaze to Chi once more and narrowed his eyes. As the kitten blinked at him and tilted its head innocuously to one side, Kidd was suddenly struck by how perfectly symmetrical his coat pattern really was. The white of its front paws were each the exact same size, look as though Chi had stepped very carefully in flour. His underbelly was the same pure white and if split exactly down the middle, each side mirrored the other exactly.

While Kidd was analysing Chi in meticulous detail, the kitten was scrutinising him back just as intently. He raised a paw and, stretching out, began batting Kidd's fringe interestedly.

"Huh?" Kidd blinked at the kitten. Mewing eagerly it patted his forehead, splaying its paws against the three white stripes of his hair. Irritated, Kidd batted Chi off. "I know, I _know_ I'm asymmetric! You don't have to rub it in!"

Chi wrinkled his nose and merely went, "miu?"

Liz laughed and swung him away from Kidd. "Aw, that's cute, Kidd! Are you _jealous_ of my kitty? Just 'cuz he's symmetrical?"

"Shut up, Liz," scowled Kidd, turning back to his desk and stabbing his pencil back into his paper. "Just get him out of my room."

He threw a sour glare at Chi, who was now nestled comfortably between Liz's breasts, kneading his head affectionately into her collarbone. With a laugh of delight, Liz swung the kitten up to her face and swathed its tiny nose with kisses, while crooning, "Mamma loves you! Yes she does! Yes she does!"

"Ugh…" Kidd returned to sitting hunched over his work, muttering dubiously under his breath. "She lets him get away with anything."

Hugging Chi to her chest once more, Liz turned back to face Kidd, head one on side. "I'm gonna go and take a bath, if that's okay Kidd. I'm wiped out."

"Yeah, go ahead," he muttered. "Just remember to hang the towels up again afterwards."

"Sure," she sang, strolling lazily out the door. "Hey, Chi, you can keep me company in the bathroom! You'd like that, right? You want to help Mamma take her bath?"

"What?" demanded Kidd suddenly, turning violently in his seat. He was too late; Liz had already disappeared down the corridor, purring happily to her kitten. She had, however, been replaced by her overexcited younger sister. Patty hovered in the doorway, giggling madly at nothing at all.

Or perhaps not. Kidd narrowed his eyes at her and lowered his pencil once more. "What do you want, Patty?"

"Lizzy loves her kitty sooo much!"

"I am aware of that, thank you very much."

"I'm so hap-hap-happy!" she squealed, dancing on the spot. "It was my idea!"

"And partly mine," he reminded her sourly. "Now, why don't you go gorge yourself on candy or something? I'm trying to work here."

As Patty obediently skipped away, singing a nursery rhyme at the top of her lungs, Kidd pushed his pencil against his desk so hard the tip broke. He did _not_ feel threatened by a stupid little _cat_.

***

"Hey," grunted Kidd, gesturing with his newspaper.

Liz glanced up briefly, raising one eyebrow. "Yes?" she said, returning to filing her nails.

"The cat," said Kidd, pointing at the little comma of black and white fur that was occupying his seat on the sofa.

"What about him?"

"I want to sit down, and he's in the way."

"He's tired, Kidd," sighed Liz, leaning over and toying with Chi's ears. He raised a sleepy head and blinked blearily up at her before yawning hugely and curling up a bit tighter.

"But he's in my seat," insisted Kidd. "I was sitting next to you, and I only got up to get my paper."

"You can sit in the chair over there," shrugged Liz, nodding across the living room to one of two armchairs that squatted beside a large curtained window.

"But I was sitting there."

"Don't be so childish, Kidd," she grinned, sitting back and resuming her nail work. "Chi's still just a baby, he doesn't - "

" - know any better, yeah, thanks," he snapped. "Liz, you're way too lenient with him."

"I am _not_!" she said.

"Yes you are," he argued. "You feed him off the table, you let him tear up my rose bushes, you don't hear a word against him, you let him sleep in your bed."

"If the sofa means _that_ much to you, _fine_," blustered Liz, getting up and leaning over Chi. "C'mon baby, Kidd's being a jerk. Come on, Chi," she added, redoubling her grip on the dozing kitten. His yellow eyes flicked open and he stared up at his 'mother' in some shock as she attempted to shift him from his comfortable position. Kidd watched as Chi began mewing in protest, and dug his claws into the cushion material.

"Oh Chi, don't be so silly." Liz pulled a little harder, and Chi only clung on more doggedly. After a moment Liz gave up and let him flop back down. "Sorry Kidd, he's staying." She sat back down next to Chi and picked up her nail file as he rolled blissfully on his back across the sofa, mewing.

Kidd glared at the kitten as he got back to his feet and padded over to Liz, batting her thigh with one soft paw. She smiled down at him with soft, loving eyes as he scrambled into her lap, curling up in the middle of the expensive denim while purring contentedly.

"Huh." Taking advantage of the opportunity, Kidd flung himself down in the now vacated seat and pulled his newspaper open, glancing sideways now and then to where Liz was absent-mindedly stroking Chi with one hand and flicking through various television channels with the other.

After a minute she lowered the remote. "D'you want to watch this, Kidd?"

"Not really."

"D'you mind if I do?"

"Go for it."

She looked at him in some surprise, and was confronted with a wall of black and white newsprint. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," he said from somewhere behind the sports section. "Just keep the kitten away from me."

The strange trio sat in silence for a while, Chi gently snoozing, Liz happily caressing him and Kidd silently stewing with pent-up frustration. He finished the newspaper all too soon, and was eventually forced to cast it aside and pretend to be interested in Liz's programme.

Every time he thought she wouldn't notice, Kidd shot an ill-disguised glare of jealousy at the now supremely relaxed Chi, who was lying draped across Liz's lap, purring like a steam-engine as she rubbed his belly. After a moment he rolled carefully over, allowing Liz to resume scratching between his ears. The cat's purring doubled in volume.

"You sure you're all right, Kidd?" asked Liz suddenly, and he blinked to find her staring him, her blue eyes wide with concern. "You look a little…spaced out."

"It's nothing. Nothing," he insisted, waving his hands.

Liz suddenly let out a girlish giggle and flicked her hand up. "Eek, Chi! Don't lick me!" The kitten sat up, mewing and waving one paw at Liz. She lifted him and planted a kiss on his nose. By way of a reply Chi rasped his tiny rough little cat's tongue against her nose, making her flinch and giggle again.

To Kidd's horror, she pushed the cat at him as well. "Give him a kiss Kidd, go on."

"No. Way."

Impatiently, she shook Chi slightly. "What's the problem? He's all soft and nice! And he might kiss you back, his tongue feels really funny."

Kidd folded his arms. "I don't want to kiss the cat, Liz. Put him down."

Liz pouted at him, and got to her feet, cradling Chi in her arms. "Why are you so mean to him? He just wants to play with you!"

"You let him do everything with you! It's silly."

She shrugged and walked to the living room door, pulling it open with on hand and tucking Chi against her shoulder with the other. "I'm his Mamma. He loves me."

Kidd sat up as she left. "But I - "

The door swung shut behind her.

***

The corridor was extremely dark, even for someone with the extraordinary vision of a Shinigami. Kidd winced as his next footstep produced a treacherous creak from the landing floorboards but he didn't stop in making his nervous way across to Patty's room.

Her door opened smoothly without a noise, but the same could not be said for his progress across her bedroom floor. Every other step appeared to result in some sort of squeak or clatter as Kidd attempted to navigate the mess of discarded clothes and toys that carpeted her floor.

Patty lay tangled in her elephant-patterned duvet, snoring loudly. Her legs and one arm hung drunkenly off the bed, and her blonde hair was everywhere. Cautiously Kidd tugged at her duvet. "Patty!" he hissed urgently. "Patty, wake up!"

She stirred briefly, but made no noise beyond a vague sort of lip smacking that told him she was too deep asleep to be awoken. With a sigh of trepidation Kidd turned and made his clumsy way back across the room to the doorway. He cast a disappointed look across her once more before closing the door with a click.

Liz's door was standing slightly ajar, in case Chi wanted to get out at any point in the night. As he placed his hand on the smooth, painted wood, Kidd closed his eyes and prayed that stupid _cat_ would for once not be there.

The floor was blessedly clean, and Kidd managed to make his way to her bedside without any mishaps, save for an awkward moment when he nearly slipped on what felt like one of her old magazines. He squinted through the dark to where Liz was lying on her back, blonde hair spread over her bare shoulders and neck. Her chest rose and fell gently under her pale blue tank top. His heart fell as he spotted the familiar ball of fluff curled up on the pillow next to her, rising and gently under her hand as Liz slept with her fingers running through the soft fur of Chi's back.

Taking a deep breath, Kidd scrambled onto her bed and knelt on her other side, poking her shoulder gently. "Liz! Liz, wake up! Please, Liz!"

"Mmh…" She raised her hand from Chi and rubbed her eyes. Then she yawned hugely and rolled onto her side, presenting him with her back.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath. Leaning forward, he placed his mouth right beside her exposed ear, and began hissing more earnestly. "Liz, wake _up_!"

"Miu?"

"I didn't mean _you_," whispered Kidd furiously as Chi stretched and sat up, staring at him out of the dark with glowing yellow eyes.

"No, no, don't do that," he added angrily as Chi bounded over the bed towards him, stepping over Liz and nuzzling against Kidd happily, burying his furry face in the Shinigami's stomach and twisting the material of Kidd's pyjama top up.

In a panic Kidd cast wildly about for something to distract the cat with, but found nothing beyond an unused alarm clock beside Liz's bed that didn't work. Meanwhile Chi stretched, yawned, and then decided that he'd like nothing more than to spend the rest of the night in a Shinigami's lap.

He scrambled onto Kidd's knees and curled up, purring contentedly.

"Don't," he hissed irritably. "I'm not a seat."

"Huh?" Liz stirred and slowly sat up, massaging one eye. "What the - " Reaching over, she flicked a bedside light on, bathing the bed in a gentle warm glow. "_Kidd_? What the hell are you doing _here_?"

"I - I had a nightmare. About asymmetry," he admitted, pushing at Chi with his fingertips as he spoke. "I wanted to talk to you and Patty, but she's asleep. So I came in here to wake you up and…"

Liz snorted with amused laughter behind her hand. "Aw Kidd! I think he likes you!"

"Get him off me," whined Kidd. "I don't like him."

As Liz leaned over and gently lifted the sleeping Chi off him, she met Kidd's serious golden eyes with her own bright blue ones. "Why not?"

"Huh?" Kidd watched her as she deposited the cat back on her pillow and sat up straight to look directly at him. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Why don't you like Chi?" pressed Liz. "You bought him for me, didn't you?"

"I know, I know," he snapped. "You just spoil him, that's all."

Liz tilted her head to her side. "That's not a good enough reason."

Kidd opened his mouth, and hesitated. He couldn't say he was _jealous_ of the kitten, it would sound stupid. No, he couldn't tell Liz that he'd spent the last month wishing _he_ were in the cat's place, wishing _he_ were the one receiving all of that love and attention Liz showered on Chi daily. Before the kitten came along Liz would tousle his hair playfully, and dance up and down the stairs with him just to aggravate him. She would make him coffee in the morning when he was too busy, and she would remember to lay the table for him just how he liked it, and they used to spend every evening together on the sofa, him reading and her watching television.

And now that Liz had Chi, none of that happened any more. Kidd felt that Liz no longer had time for him, and there were times when he even slightly regretted buying her the cat in the first place.

But he couldn't say any of this to Liz, so he simply said, "He's symmetrical, and I'm not."

"But you _love_ symmetrical stuff," giggled Liz. "You really are jealous of him!"

Kidd folded his arms and glared at her sulkily. "So what?"

Tutting, Liz twisted around and gently lifted the sleeping Chi off the pillow. He didn't react beyond a disgruntled flick of the tail. Carefully Liz held the cat out to Kidd, who recoiled.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm showing you something, dummy. Look." He scrutinized where her perfectly painted nail was indicating. Just behind Chi's left ear was a small blemish, a blur of white that he had not previously noticed. Automatically Kidd's gaze moved to Chi's other ear, but it was as black and solid as ever. His mouth fell open.

Liz lowered Chi back to the bed once more. "You see? I spotted it when you first gave me him, but I didn't mention it because I thought it would bug you."

"He's…asymmetric?"

"Yeah." Liz folded her hands in her laps and considered Kidd once more, a small smile on her lips. "I'm sorry if I've been ignoring you recently. I know I'm too lovey-dovey with the cat, but I can't help it." She reached to her side and began toying affectionately with Chi's ears. "He reminds me of you."

"I - what?" This brought Kidd up short, and he sat back, staring at her.

"All perfect and tidy and black-and-white, except for this one little thing that's off," she explained, her smile widening as she shuffled over to him, reaching out. Gently she cupped his face in one hand and brushed his maddeningly black-and-white bangs from his eyes.

Kidd blinked and stared up at her.

She smiled at him. "Chi could be just like any other black and white cat. If I lost him, I might not be able to identify him properly. But that one little white smudge makes him mine, it makes him _him." _She stroked the white stripes of Kidd's hair flat once more. "Do you understand, Kidd?"

He closed his eyes as she held his face in her soft, warm hands. "I guess so."

"You see?" Suddenly Liz leaned forwards and planted a kiss on his forehead, her lips touching him through his dark hair. "No more nightmares, okay? Go get some sleep."

Slightly dazed, Kidd nodded as she released him from her arms and gently pushed him away.

He staggered to her door. "'Night, Liz."

She watched him go fondly. "'Night, Kidd."

As he closed the door, she carefully picked Chi up and laid him back on the pillow. Leaning over to turn the light off once more, she gave Chi a swift kiss as well, smiling at him through the fur.

He mewed and curled up against her, pressing his face into her side. Cradling him against her, Liz whispered to him gently. He didn't like waking up in the dark, and simply wanted some comforting. Just like Kidd.


End file.
